


Crystal Clear

by FreshBrains



Series: Femslash100 Mini Fics [31]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Community: femslash100, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Post-Episode: s05e08 Coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 06:33:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3164837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s dark out and there’s a chill in the air, but Maggie drags an old tin wash tub out to the front porch and asks Tara if she’ll help her fill it from the pond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crystal Clear

**Author's Note:**

> For the Femslash100 Drabble Prompt #441: Bath.

The woods are quiet, the cabin is empty, and the group settles into their bundles and pods to sleep after they bury Beth.  It’s dark out and there’s a chill in the air, but Maggie drags an old tin wash tub out to the front porch and asks Tara if she’ll help her fill it from the pond.

“I need to be clean,” she says, voice still hoarse.  “Clean-ish, I guess.”

Tara nods and helps her, silently retrieving bucket after bucket to pour into the tub.  They can’t see it in the dark, but the water smells clean and fresh, and Tara still has a sliver of soap she’s been nursing from the apartment.

“You don’t have to stay with me,” Maggie says, hunching into the water. 

Tara doesn’t respond, just sits on the porch step, keeping watch.

“But I’d like it if you did.”

Tara eventually gets up and crouches behind Maggie, washes her dirty hair until it shines in the moonlight.  She allows her hands to roam Maggie’s neck and shoulders and belly, cleaning the spaces Maggie is too tired and grief-stricken to bother with, scrubs her feet and hands until the soap is all gone.  “I’ll stay as long as you need me,” she finally says, pressing a kiss to Maggie’s damp, chilled hand.

“Wouldn’t that be nice,” Maggie whispers, and Tara just holds her hand tighter.


End file.
